


The Wise King

by theorytale



Series: The Saga of Hug Fortress [4]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: Multi, References to Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:14:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theorytale/pseuds/theorytale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Loki is not the God of Family Therapy and Tony is a bad Asgardian role model (and possibly a Care Bear).</p>
<p>Or: Loki goes to prison, and Tony tries to learn more about the extent of Loki's powers and plans.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wise King

He didn't see Loki again for a few weeks, which gave Tony time to finish his bionic eye and start throwing money at the red tape. Start with Lemaire, call it human trials, let the company deal with commercializing it later.

He was tapping on his tablet, trading emails with the European division of Stark Industries and not really paying attention to where he was going. By this stage in his life he'd pretty much mastered the skill of letting his subconscious and his peripheral vision steer him away from walls and door-frames. When the hallway opened up into a larger room, a vague awareness of other people present filtered through; he made a vague noise of acknowledgement and navigated by auto-pilot to the nearest sofa.

It was only when he heard Thor say Loki's name that something penetrated his work haze. Tony glanced up and then did a double-take, seeing who was here. Cap, looming convincingly; Hawkeye, an arrow notched and ready; Loki, chained and absolutely refusing to look at Thor.

"I sleep in one time and look what I miss," Tony said.

Without looking away from Loki, Clint said, "It's your grasp of situational awareness that makes me really glad to be on a team with you."

Tony flipped him the bird. "I'm sorry, I was busy revolutionizing medical technology. What have you done lately?"

"We picked him up not long ago," Steve said quietly. "He hasn't said-- well, anything, actually."

Clint gave a disparaging snort. "Didn't put up much of a fight, either. Think he's getting _soft_."

"I made a wager," Loki said, sounding aggrieved.

_That_ was what this was about? Tony frowned, leaning back in the sofa to study Loki. He _looked_ captured - Steve was trying to ask him what kind of wager, and Loki had clammed back up, staring at the ground like he was defeated - but there was something fishy about this.

"That one was me," he told Steve. "I bet he couldn't pull off one of his stunts without killing or hurting anyone."

"Apparently he can't," Clint commented, smirking a little, and seriously, how did he not see how fishy this was?

Thor made a disgruntled noise. "It's not wise to wager with my brother, Tony. You are lucky it did not go awry for you."

Yet. It did not go awry _yet_. Tony was pretty sure it was far from over. Oh, and there it was, the faintest of smiles on Loki's face, tucked away and hidden. The sneaky bastard was planning something, all right.

"In any case," Thor continued, "I shall return with Loki to Asgard, and you will be safe--"

All Tony's attention snapped to Thor. "Wait, no, I thought we weren't going to do that."

"Tony," Steve said warningly.

"I understand your concerns," Thor said, which Tony doubted very much. "This time, we will ensure he is contained--"

"If I had a dollar for every time you've told us that." Tony rolled his eyes. "Oh, wait, I _do_ , because I'm a _billionaire_. Thor, come on, we talked about this."

"I promised to give it thought, and I have." Thor sighed, looking frustrated. "What would you have us do? Leave him unpunished? How will that stop him?"

"Right now the priority is getting him off the streets," Steve said firmly. "If you've got something else to say, we need to not have this conversation in front of Loki."

Tony stood up and tossed his tablet down on the sofa. "Just… give me one minute, here," he said. He walked slowly towards Loki, making sure to stay out of Clint's line of fire. Loki actually looked up, meeting Tony's eyes with a slight frown as if he was trying to figure out what Tony was thinking.

They wanted to send Loki to Asgard. Loki wanted to go to Asgard. Tony owed Asgard approximately zero loyalty, and he had a vested interest in forging bonds with Loki. Oh, what the hell.

Tony angled his body so none of the others could see his expression. He gave Loki a deliberate wink, then turned away and made a show of huffing in frustration. "You guys do what you want, I can't stop you."

He _could_ warn Thor, but honestly he'd given them enough warning already. If they couldn't figure it out, then, well, he wasn't going to hold their hands through it. Maybe it was a terrible idea, but he wanted to see this play out.

There was even the slight possibility that Asgard really could keep Loki locked up this time, which would save a lot of trouble. He wasn't going to hold his breath, though.

He could hear Thor move in behind him, voice low and pleading. "Loki, speak to me. Make this easier on yourself."

Loki, unsurprisingly, didn't say anything. Tony picked up his tablet on the way out of the room, thinking about that tiny, almost invisible smile.

\--

He took the jet to Belgium, because Pepper said flying everywhere in the Iron Man suit was _too showy_ (as if there could ever be such a thing). Tony obeyed because a) Pepper's will was a force of nature, and b) much as he loved flying in the suit, it was true there could be too much of a good thing. A little true. Only just.

He visited Lemaire first; they'd talked on the phone several times since he first made the offer, but he wanted to meet in person. Wanted to talk about the artificial eye and the procedure and go over any concerns that she had (besides 'why was he doing this', because she seemed not to buy the admittedly flimsy excuse that it was a tax dodge).

It wasn't going to be perfect, it wasn't going to be what she'd lost, but it was the best he could give her.

He had his driver pick a restaurant for dinner, which felt more like lunch. He was stuck on New York time, six hours behind, so he stayed up too late working on a paper he was co-writing with Bruce, and then realized at three in the morning that he'd written all his notes in French because that's what he'd been speaking for the last sixteen hours. Well, damn.

Did Bruce speak French? Probably. Hell, he could just email it anyway and pretend he'd done it on purpose, everyone was used to his questionable sense of humor by now.

Tony turned his attention to the online mutant forums he'd had Jarvis dig up for him. He wanted to understand Loki better, and the best analogy he could think of was someone raised to hate mutants who suddenly manifested their own ability. Fortunately, the internet was full of semi-anonymous sob stories and encouragement from other people who'd gone through the same thing, as well as tips on how to be a supportive family member or friend. It made for illuminating reading, even if he was inclined to disregard most of the advice.

"Tip," he muttered to himself sarcastically, "don't use the term 'frost giant'. Use 'differently godly'."

He skimmed the forums for an hour or so, then forced himself to go to bed, tired or not. Tomorrow he had another visit to make.

The two children, Yvette and Frederic, had been taken in by their maternal uncle. Tony had checked into the guy. He was a patents lawyer, single, clean record; no, he didn't need a job with Stark Industries, no, he didn't need any financial support, yes, the famous Iron Man could come and visit the kids.

In person, Mathieu De Wilde was a nondescript guy in a suit; faintly charming but not charismatic. He shook Tony's hand, called him 'Monsieur Stark' even when Tony protested the formality, and made a mean cup of coffee. He also looked very, very tired. Like a guy whose sister had been brutally murdered and who found himself suddenly a single parent of two traumatized kids.

"Don't misunderstand me," he insisted; "I love my niece and nephew. But Frederic is so quiet and Yvette won't let him out of her sight. I don't know anything about children. I don't know what to do."

He looked desperate and pleading and Tony didn't know what to tell him. This wasn't a problem that could be solved by throwing money at it. De Wilde had a well-paying job, the kids had a sizable inheritance; money wasn't an issue.

Pepper would know what to say. Pepper was great at stuff like this, the people stuff. Tony mumbled something placating and useless like, "It must be very hard for you," and drained his coffee cup, feeling like an asshole.

Talking to the kids didn't make him feel any better. In one way the timing was kind of good, because he could honestly tell them that the man who killed their parents had been caught and imprisoned. He left out the part where Loki was probably going to escape and come back.

"You're American," Yvette said, holding Frederic protectively behind her. "Why don't you just execute him?"

"Aren't you seven? I don't remember being that bloodthirsty when I was seven." Tony was crouched down to be at eye level with them. He made a face, because he couldn't very well tell her 'because his brother will kick our collective asses'. "We can't always execute people. I'm, uh, we're trying to make him not want to hurt people anymore. It's complicated."

Frederic tugged on his sister's arm and whispered in her ear. Yvette nodded and asked, "Are you really Iron Man?"

That was a much easier question. "Sure am. Do you want t-shirts or something? I can get you t-shirts." Mugs, keychains, action figures, about a hundred other things. It would be embarrassing if it didn't make so much money.

They both looked at him solemnly, wide brown eyes in pale faces. Frederic didn't give any signal that Tony could see, but Yvette said, "Yes, please, Frederic would like a t-shirt. Oncle said your parents are dead, too."

"That's right. They died in a car crash."

"Are they in Heaven?"

Tony bit his tongue, hard, and let his inner Pepper answer that question. "Yes, they are. Maybe my parents and your parents will be friends."

The kids looked unimpressed. At least there wasn't any crying.

Tony shifted his weight and shot De Wilde an apologetic look for what he was about to say. It felt low, like he'd only come here to harass them for information. "Hey, listen. I know some men already asked you two about the safe upstairs--"

"We don't know," Yvette said quickly. Too quickly, and Tony nodded.

"That's okay. I just want you to know, if you _remember_ something, maybe something you overheard that you weren't supposed to, I promise you won't get in trouble if you tell me."

She hesitated. "Promise?"

He put a hand on his heart and pitched his voice sing-song. "Cross of wood, cross of iron, if I lie I'm going to Hell."

The two kids shared a look, and then Yvette peered over at their uncle, who nodded solemnly. She crept forward and leaned in close to Tony's ear. "Papa has a lucky coin. We're not allowed to know."

Some kind of coin. That narrowed it down. Not by much, sure, but maybe they could turn up something about a magical coin floating around Western Europe. Tony kept his voice gentle. "Do you know anything else about it?"

Yvette shook her head.

"That's okay. That's very helpful, thank you." He glanced at De Wilde again. "I'm going to give your uncle my email address, so he can help you if you want to write to me. About anything, even if it seems stupid."

They both nodded, and Tony pushed himself up to his feet, knees aching with the movement. He looked down at Yvette and Frederic and said, praying it was true, "You're going to be okay."

He made the same offer to De Wilde - email any time, even just to vent - and the guy thanked him so sincerely that it made his stomach turn. It wasn't like he was doing anything actually helpful. Short of figuring out how to bring back the dead, he didn't see how he _could_ help.

On the bright side, that was the last of his business in Belgium (the other survivor didn't want to meet, just wanted to get on with her life, which he could understand) so now he could look forward to getting home.

Halfway through the flight he suddenly realized the loophole in his bet with Loki, and cursed his own stupidity the rest of the way back to New York.

\--

A few evenings later saw him stretched out on the sofa with Pepper tucked against his side. It was his favorite way to read; tablet in one hand and the other arm wrapped around a warm body. Pepper had a particularly nice warm body and he told her so, kissing the top of her head.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," she murmured, not looking away from her own tablet.

"Actually, I think you'll find past history shows that flattery will get me at least in the door, sometimes even as far as the bedroom."

"Oh, that's not the flattery; I'm just using you to get close to Captain America."

"Cold," he said, and ignored the little twist in his gut, because it was a funny joke even if it was painfully on point. Pepper wasn't his father. Which was a good thing, a very good thing, because that would make their relationship disturbing. "Scheming. Diabolical. He needs more of that in his life, actually."

"Mm, if you say so." Pepper reached up without looking to pat at his cheek.

Tony flipped between the articles he was reading: one on the effects of childhood bullying, one on the pathology of serial killers. "Should I get a psychology degree? I can always use more qualifications, right?"

"Tony, you use your qualifications as place-mats."

"That was _one time_."

"It's a social science," she reminded him calmly. "You know how you feel about social sciences."

"Oh, good point. Unclean." He wrinkled his nose, then peered over her shoulder. "What are you reading, anyway?"

"Just brushing up on my mythology." Pepper tilted her tablet so he could see the text. "He's supposed to be the God of Chaos. Have you thought that maybe he's _meant_ to be crazy?"

No need to ask who she was talking about. Tony grimaced. "Well, that hardly seems fair. Can't he give it back and get something else? God of Well-Adjusted Stockbrokers or something?"

"Hard to see him as a stockbroker," Pepper pointed out. "God of Theatre Directors?"

"He does like a show. God of Bizarre Scandinavian Rock Music?" Tony tilted his head, distracted by the possibilities. If he could choose a godhood, any godhood… "Why not go straight for the gold? God of the First Coffee of the Day."

"God of Breakfast in Bed," Pepper said, wriggling her toes with relish.

"Oh, that's _good_. I might have to stake a claim on that one." He gave her a gentle squeeze and hummed into her hair. Maybe next weekend: long lazy morning, waffles drizzled with maple syrup, fresh fruit dipped in chocolate, very messy sex. Maybe not strawberries? He had a vague idea there was something wrong with strawberries. "Jarvis, make a note."

"Noted, sir."

Pepper tipped her head back to get his attention. "Did you remember to email Director Fury?"

"He said he's not interested in being a lab rat." Fury had put it a little more colorfully than that, but the gist was enough. Tony was a little insulted that anyone would reject his quite frankly amazing venture into bionics. "I think he just likes the eye patch."

"Well, it does make him look rather distinguished."

"It makes him look like a _pirate_."

"I think that's what I said," Pepper teased, and Tony snorted in amusement.

They read a while longer, then Jarvis let them know that dinner was ready. Bruce had offered to cook tonight, which always meant good things. They tossed around a few more godhood ideas while riding the elevator down. (Tony was particularly fond of 'God of Televised Gardening Competitions', because what was less evil than nice landscaping?)

There was a surprise when they got to the dinner table: Thor, back and looking guilty as hell. That only ever meant one thing. Tony laughed, because it was that or tear his hair out with frustration. "Seriously? Seri-- What was that, a week, six days? I think that is _actually_ a new record. You're going to have to start offering him frequent flier miles or something."

"Tony," Bruce chided him, because Bruce was too damn soft for his own good.

"I apologize," Thor said miserably. "We have failed you. There is no excuse."

Tony let Pepper push him into a chair, then he folded his arms and scowled across the table at Thor. "I want my dollar."

"Thor, don't give him a dollar," Pepper said firmly. "It's good to see you again, despite the circumstances."

Thor inclined his head gratefully. "And you as well, Lady Pepper. Tony's right to reproach me, though. I was certain this would not happen again, yet Loki made all our measures appear as nought but daydreams. He was well prepared."

Tony sighed, and resigned himself to asking the question he'd been dreading since he'd realized the bet didn't cover Asgardians. "Did he hurt anyone?"

"He did not." Thor managed a wry smile, although it didn't reach his eyes. "Loki has ever hated to lose a wager."

Huh. That was… interesting, because Tony was sure Loki wasn't the type to just overlook a loophole like that. Or the type to play nice for no reason.

Bruce finished dishing up and sat down to join them. "So, it's pretty safe to assume he's probably back on Earth. Do we have any idea where he's going to… start?"

There was an awkward silence, then Thor ducked his head and said, "I'm afraid not."

So, nothing they could do until the first news reports of death and destruction came in. Inevitably, Loki always came back from Asgard pissed off and looking to mete out some pain of his own. No complex scheme, just blood and violence. Which was a sentiment Tony could relate to, actually; it was how the whole Iron Man thing had kicked off. But Iron Man _aimed_. Loki just lashed out.

He didn't want to think about what Loki was going to do. How many people Loki might kill. He rocked back in his chair and looked speculatively at Thor instead. "So, what did he steal?"

Thor actually had the nerve to look _startled_.

Tony huffed, rolling his eyes a little. "Come on. He clearly got himself taken back there on purpose. He didn't go to kill anyone. So what did he take?"

"A trinket, nothing more. A child's toy." Thor gestured, indicating something round. "Jane has devices somewhat like it. A… telescope? For seeing long distances."

Tony exchanged a puzzled look with Pepper. Why would Loki let himself be taken back to Asgard just to steal a telescope? It wasn't as if they were hard to get hold of - or, hell, Loki could probably make one if he needed something specialized. Tony sure as hell could, and Loki was at least as smart.

"I'm… confused," Bruce said, giving voice to their thoughts.

Thor spread his hands expressively. "As are we all. He ignored many valuable artifacts and powerful weapons, although he must have walked past them, and took only the one small toy."

That took Pepper aback. "Why would you keep toys with valuable or dangerous items?" It was kind of adorable that _that_ was the part that jumped out at her.

"Sounds like my workshop," Tony muttered, shooting a grin at Bruce. "Which is why Pepper is a) in charge of organizing anything that needs organizing, and b) not allowed to touch my workspace."

"I am terrified if the King of Asgard has the same lab habits as you," Pepper said with a sigh.

"The toy had its own value," Thor explained. "It was something Loki crafted as a boy, long before he should have been capable of such delicate work. It was a gift my father treasured."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "My god, that's actually cute. I didn't know Loki even _had_ cute stories. I think I'm jealous. Why do I suspect he didn't take it for sentimental reasons?"

"Indeed, we had many happy memories, though he chooses to forget them now." Thor looked briefly wistful then shook his head. "What his purpose could be, I know not."

To prove a point? To deny, again, the family relationship? Tony drummed his fingers on the table, frowning. It didn't feel right. Taking something like that didn't crush those family memories, it brought them to the surface. Emotional manipulation? There were easier ways to go about it, ways that didn't involve getting dragged back in chains.

"Stop trying to figure him out, Tony." Bruce gave him a small, wry smile. "Human brains aren't designed to be that twisty. You'll hurt yourself."

"Yeah. Wouldn't want that." Tony grinned, because had Bruce actually seen him work? Or drive, or attempt to cook, or just about anything else, for that matter. Hurting himself was how he knew he was on the right track.

"All right." Pepper held a hand up for their attention. "Let's shelve the topic. Let Thor decompress. You can debrief properly when the others are back from the movies."

That made sense; there was no point in going over everything twice, and nothing much they could do unless they got a news report or a call from SHIELD. Tony pretended to sulk anyway. "I still want my dollar."

"You don't need a dollar."

"Then I'm raising your rent."

"Take it out in trade," Pepper said blandly, as if Thor and Bruce weren't _right there_ \- admittedly, Thor probably didn't know what she meant.

"Why, Ms. Potts," Tony said, as Bruce smirked down at his dinner, "I believe we have a deal."

\--

And then there was nothing. It made Tony nervous. Jarvis was monitoring basically every news channel there was, as well as a few defense networks he wasn't supposed to have access to, but nothing was happening that couldn't be identified as humans just being dicks to each other. (Which was admittedly still a problem, but not _Tony's_ problem. Unless he discovered there were any of his old weapons involved.)

The weekend came and went. He remembered to make Pepper breakfast in bed. He ran some more tests on the staff they'd got off Loki at the beginning of all this. He reorganized the kitchen, designed a better propulsion system for the jet, and drank cup after cup of coffee.

Finally Steve kicked both him and Thor out of the Tower 'until they could act like normal people'. Tony thought that was unfair. He _was_ being normal. Thor was the one walking around under a visible cloud of worry and agitation.

They flew upstate a bit to blow off some steam. Technically, they didn't have to go that far to spar, but between Thor's super-strength and tendency to throw lightning around, and the capabilities of the Iron Man suit, they needed a lot more space if they really wanted to cut loose.

Fighting against Thor was good practice. He didn't hold back like Steve tended to. And with the kinds of enemies they'd started making, Tony had to be familiar with the very limits of what his armor could handle.

Actually, it was about time for another upgrade; he'd base the calculations around dealing with super-powered people like Thor. Jarvis had comprehensive data on Thor's abilities, and recordings of all Iron Man's fights. Maybe he'd sacrifice some lightness for a little more durability.

After they'd thrown each other around for a while, Tony signaled for a break. He pulled his helmet off and lowered himself heavily to the ground, joints aching in a vaguely satisfying kind of way. Thor came and dropped easily beside him.

"An envigorating duel," Thor declared, grinning at him. "My thanks, Tony. The Captain was right, it was good to divert our minds from their cares."

"Yeah," Tony agreed, mentally shying away from the word 'duel'. It just reminded him of the crazy idea that he'd dueled for Loki somehow. Maybe Loki had just meant that it made him feel important to be fought over. Maybe Loki had just been trying to freak him out.

He leaned back on his hands and tilted his face up to feel the sun. It was probably bad that he'd been kicked out right along with Thor. It meant the others could tell that Loki was getting to him, and he couldn't see any way they'd approve. Bruce and Steve he figured would come to him first with any problems, but Natasha and Clint were still SHIELD and the last thing he needed was Natasha writing another one of her little reports for Fury and throwing around words like 'compromised'.

He needed to be more careful. Play it cooler.

"Yet you still seem deep in thought," Thor observed.

Tony looked at him and shifted, sitting up straighter. He shook dirt off his gauntlets. "Can I ask you some questions?"

"About Loki." Thor sat up a little straighter as well, smile falling away, and nodded. "I will answer as best I can."

"He's supposedly the God of Lies; what does that mean, exactly? Can he tell when we're lying?"

Thor opened his mouth to answer, then paused a little, brows furrowing. "He has been given dominion over trickery and lies, so by rights he should know a lie when one is spoken in his presence. Yet it often seems this is not so."

So, 'maybe', or worse, 'sometimes'. Tony wasn't happy with the imprecision of that answer; if it was concrete one way or the other at least he'd know what he was working with, and be able to tailor his conversations with Loki accordingly. He studied Thor for a moment. "You have a theory."

Thor was slow to answer, and sounded hesitant. "I think perhaps… he has lied to himself for so long he can no longer tell it from truth."

That made sense, inasmuch as anything stinking of magic made sense. It wasn't completely counter-intuitive, anyway. Tony made a thoughtful noise, turning the idea over in his mind.

Thor gave a sigh. "If that is truly the case, then I-- You must understand, when I say it seems Loki cannot recognize a falsehood, I am not speaking solely of the time since his fall from the Bifrost."

That wasn't a big surprise; Loki had had issues for a long time. Oh, but that was the very thing that bothered Thor about it. It meant that things weren't as happy as he remembered them, before it all went to hell.

"Well, yeah," Tony said frankly, because he was an insensitive dick sometimes, and come on, Thor knew that by now. "I know you love the guy, Thor, but he got screwed up long before whatever hellhole it was he fell through. I don't know if it was going on behind your back, or if you just didn't realize what you were seeing--"

"I would never have let anyone hurt my brother," Thor said tightly.

"But you _did_." Tony took a breath. "You said it yourself, your little warrior buddies made jokes that you never took seriously. No, he didn't tell you it bothered him, and he should have. But you didn't see it. You didn't see _him_."

He knew it was hurting Thor to hear this, but if there was any hope for them to be brothers again then Thor needed to learn to understand. Tony had doubts that he was the best person for the task, but he had too much experience being on the invisible end of the equation to think of Loki solely as an enemy anymore. For better or worse, he'd put himself squarely in the middle of this.

"He's a frost giant," he pointed out. "And he didn't know. He's been lied to his whole life. He doesn't have dominion over lies, Thor. He's basically their bitch."

Thor jerked and his jaw clenched with sudden anger. Tony raised his eyebrows, startled; he hadn't thought what he'd said was that bad.

"What you say has merit." Thor turned his head slightly, looking out across the bare land, eyes distant. "Our father's actions likely have much to do with it."

"Okay," Tony said slowly. "So are you pissed right now because Loki's a frost giant, or because Odin hid it?"

That got Thor's eyes back on him. "I-- you misunderstand. On Asgard, customs are not as they are here--"

"I had noticed that, yes," Tony said wryly.

"Men and women have their proper roles. Loki has always… pushed the boundaries of what is acceptable -" Thor glanced down in a way that suggested Loki didn't so much push the boundaries as trample them - "but there are still things one simply does not say."

Tony was starting to catch on. "Like calling him anyone's bitch?"

Thor gave him a dirty look. "You try my patience sometimes. Yes. To accuse a man of playing the woman, of submitting that way to another man - it is a mortal insult. By law, the one so named has the right to face his accuser in single combat."

"Oh, like you don't all duel at the drop of a hat anyway," Tony muttered, trying to think through the implications of this. Mostly wondering what Thor thought of his tendency to hit on everything that moved, and also trying to remember how much he'd hit on _Thor_ , and what he might have insinuated. He probably should avoid bringing up some of the things he got Pepper to do to him.

"A duel to the death," Thor clarified, and Tony jerked his head up.

"Whoa. _Whoa_. And you didn't think that was something that we needed to know? Like, maybe the _first_ time I ran my mouth at your incredibly cranky, mass murdering brother?"

Thor regarded him wryly. "Until recently, Tony Stark, if I had told you how best to offend my brother, would you have done anything other than run immediately to him to say that very thing?"

Touché. "Hey, that's unfair, not to mention hurtful. I would never run to him. I'd have at least waited for him to come to us."

Mortal insult. Tony assumed he hadn't implied anything like that to Loki yet, because he wasn't dead. He couldn't help but wonder how many times Loki had got away with saying things like that himself and none of them had known to take notice. Would Thor have said anything? Actually, yes, if it was that bad Thor would have spoken up.

"So," he wondered aloud, "if that's a mortal insult, what about the guy who's, you know, playing the man? I'm just asking," he added, as Thor started scowling. "I'm not going to go out and start insulting him now, he's got knives that are sharp and pointy."

"It is… acceptable," Thor said grudgingly. "It would perhaps be odd to shun women entirely, but so long as a man does not allow himself to be penetrated, he loses nothing in the eyes of the law."

"Good to know." So handjobs, fine; blowjobs… questionable. Although, there was a hell of a lot of ground between 'legal' and 'socially acceptable'. Tony cast a sideways glance at Thor. "So, have _you_ been with other men?"

"I do not wish to discuss my private life with you," Thor said loftily. "Have you any other questions?"

Tony grinned. That was totally a yes. "Okay, but presumably if there are men out there pitching, there's _someone_ willing to do the catching. How does that tie in with the whole deadly insult thing?"

Thor gave him that wry look again. "Why, they lie about it, of course."

Tony gave a short, sharp bark of laughter, and then his brain latched onto ' _lie_ ' and oh, Thor and Loki both had already told him that magic was supposed to be for women, if Loki was dealing with homophobia on top of that-- "Does Loki--"

" _No_ ," Thor said sharply, and all of a sudden his hand was on the hilt of his hammer.

"Okay, things one simply does not say, got it," Tony said hastily. Thor wasn't kidding. "Ah… but I'm guessing people did say it?" He watched Thor carefully, trying to judge his boundaries here. "Given the… magic and… you know. Loki's outstanding talent for making friends and influencing people."

Thor's fingers flexed, then fell away from the hammer. "Indeed. Men tended to remember his magic, and forget his skill with a blade. And an excess of mead has ever loosened men's tongues and made them over-bold. Loki fought a number of duels, in his youth."

"To the death."

"To the death," Thor agreed.

"Well, good. Good." Tony went to rub his forehead and grimaced as he hit himself with the metal of his gauntlet. "So he's spent his life believing that he has to kill people to prove himself. Wow, I'm so glad that didn't come back and bite us in the ass at all."

"I fought on his behalf when I was able," Thor said defensively.

"What does that, what does that mean, exactly? You get to call in a ringer?"

"Your companions may call for the duel, if they hear the insult. Of course, it was very seldom anyone was foolish enough to speak so in front of me." Thor tilted his head slightly. "Do you not defend the honor of your friends, when you are with them?"

"Are you kidding?" Tony asked, and then he realized that no, playground taunts aside, he would go to the mats for any of his people when it really counted. "All right, no, I see what you mean. What about the magic, then; I assume that's not a mortal combat thing since, you know, he kind of flashes it around."

"That is… an unusual situation." Thor seemed to mull it over for a moment. "Were he any other man, the use of magic would have been forbidden to him. But Loki is Odin's son, and a prince of the realm. And somewhat spoiled," he added with a hint of a bite in his voice. It was actually kind of hilarious to hear Thor complaining about Loki being spoiled, instead of the other way around. Thor loosened up a lot about Loki when he wasn't stuck playing Loki's only defender. "So he had his way. No doubt a few thought it shameful, but it is just… Loki. It is who he is."

Loki thought everyone despised it; Thor thought a few. The truth was probably somewhere in between, and a matter of degree. Tony added that to the picture he was building in his brain - kind of a 3D schematic of what made up Loki - and decided it was time for a new line of questioning. "Kind of a sensitive topic, here, but uh. Loki's mentioned a couple of times falling off your magic rainbow bridge. Sometimes he says he fell, and sometimes he says he was cast off. So which was it?"

Thor was silent for a long time, and Tony was beginning to wonder if he should just ask something else. Then Thor bowed his head and said unhappily, "Neither. He let go."

"Oh." Tony's breath stuck in his throat. That… was bad. And made a lot of sense. His little mental schematic rearranged itself. Loki found out he was the monster under the bed, tried to off himself, fell through inter-dimensional hell-space, came back bugfuck crazy.

Still looking down, Thor said in a low voice, "I tell you this only because I know you are trying to help him. It is not a matter to be discussed lightly. I would ask your discretion, where these things are concerned."

"You got it," Tony promised. It wasn't the kind of thing he'd make fun of. It cut too close to the bone; left the sour, dull taste of grief in the back of his throat. "He was… different before that, right? You've said…"

"Yes. Loki was full of mischief and laughter and… I thought, a joy in life." Thor looked off into the distance again. "You would have liked him, I think. The pair of you might have made great sport."

Tony didn't know what to say to that. He didn't know what Thor was going through, not really. He imagined it was like Loki was only half-dead: gone, but not completely out of reach. Just close enough to taunt with everything that was missing. He could remember all too clearly the moment he'd discovered Obie's betrayal, but this ran so much deeper. A thousand years of brotherhood turned on its head and somehow, Thor had the strength and sureness of self to keep on loving Loki anyway.

Tony kind of envied that. He didn't know what that kind of faith might feel like.

Abruptly, he'd had enough of this conversation, of the weary lines of loss it was etching into Thor's expression. He didn't ache as much anymore, so he pushed himself to his feet and held out a hand. "Another bout?"

Thor looked up in surprise, then smiled bright and genuine, moving easily from one moment to the next. "Gladly."

\--

Loki came back one morning after Pepper had already gone to work. He was standing outside on the landing pad, looking down at the city, his coat flapping in the wind. It probably said something about Tony that his first thought was to finish buttoning up his shirt, rather than go for the suit's homing bracelets. He did it by feel, eyes drawn to the dark figure out the window. It was like when he was working on something particularly interesting and his vision reduced down to the model in front of him. And oh, wouldn't it be easier if Loki was a holographic display he could expand or manipulate or put away at will.

"Jarvis," he said as he knotted his tie, "our buddy Loki's about to come in and no, I do not need you to contact the other Avengers. Everything's fi-- wait. No hits on the news search?"

"No, sir. It is, as they say, all quiet on the Western Front."

"Thank you for that truly comforting literary reference. I really hope that doesn't mean I'm going to be his welcome back tantrum." Tony finally slipped the bracelets on and went to the door. He only stuck his head out; no reason to go stand right out on the edge where even a saint might be tempted to push him off. "How's the view?"

"Smoggy," Loki said without turning around, and his voice carried eerily well.

There was something unnerving about the way Loki was looking down. Maybe it was just because Tony could still remember Thor's voice telling him Loki had let go. On the other hand, Thor had once survived a thirty thousand foot drop without a scratch; falling only a thousand shouldn't be enough to so much as bruise someone like Loki.

That didn't mean Loki wasn't wishing it would.

Tony pushed all thoughts of sleepless nights and lonely whiskey bottles from his mind. "Just don't get comfortable out there. No stealing my tower again. It's my tower, I built it. You can't have it."

Loki gave a sharp laugh. "Oh, but I don't need the whole thing. I give my word, you'll barely even notice my presence."

Tony hesitated, then decided it was safe enough to leave Loki out there wallowing. Or at least, not any more dangerous than anything else involving Loki. "Well, don't break anything," he said, then pulled back inside.

He intended to grab a tablet and do some reading while keeping a wary eye on Loki out the window, but he heard the outside door open again only moments later. He turned slightly to keep Loki in his field of vision. "Should I say welcome back? I'm not sure what the protocol here is, considering."

Loki swept a hand in front of himself - he'd added black gloves to his usual outfit - and gave a small, mocking bow. He looked… terrible, actually; tense all over and eyes deeply shadowed. "There's no need to concern yourself. I was hardly expecting fanfare."

"We kind of were, now that you mention it." Tony kept the lines of his body casual, hiding the nervous adrenaline that surged through him. "You usually announce your return with a bit of a body count, a few more explosions."

Loki's answering smile was thin and tight, badly forced. "Ah, but we had a wager. There would be no return had I not gone to Asgard in the first place. I would hate to lose on a technicality."

"That's… oddly fair of you." And back to front. Surely Loki was supposed to be exploiting technicalities to his advantage, not bending over backwards to avoid them. Tony puzzled at it as he went to the side of the room, where he had Loki's prize tucked away in a drawer. "Well, you win, so congratulations. Here's a little something I prepared earlier. I can throw in a user manual if you want but you don't seem to have much trouble with technolo-- _Jesus_ , you're right there."

Loki grinned sharply, looming over him from way too close, and plucked the cellphone from his hands. Tony took a shuddering breath, pulse racing with fear and okay, okay, maybe he was a _little_ turned on, because he had a long and practiced history of self-destructive urges. But he had to get a grip on it because having seen a weakness Loki was going to _keep poking at it_ , and that would end… badly. For so many reasons. The first and most important being Pepper, followed by everything Thor had explained about sex roles on Asgard, and not forgetting that Loki would probably take him to pieces. Literally. Bloodily.

Loki leaned in, bracing a hand on either side of him. "My thanks," he murmured, low and purring, "for the crafting."

Way, way too close. Half the problem was that Tony _knew_ this was dangerous, he was flooded with adrenaline, but they weren't fighting. His body didn't know what to do with it.

Okay then, snap decision time. So he was sometimes kind of into Loki, so what? He could be fine with that. He was attracted to people all the time. For example: every one of his teammates. It didn't have to be a big deal, he could just… enjoy the feeling, then go on being comfortable with his life just the way it was.

Snap decisions were good. Most of his decisions were made on impulse, if he was honest. They tended to work out. He could always justify them afterwards, so either his subconscious was really good at processing information and feeding him the correct answers, or he'd had a lot of practice justifying himself. Maybe a little of both.

He looked up at Loki and smiled calmly, choosing not to be flustered. "You're welcome."

Something - disappointment or irritation - flashed across Loki's face. Ha. He backed up several steps, passing the cellphone back and forth between gloved hands. It tugged at something familiar in Tony's brain; he'd seen it before, Loki putting distance between himself and other people before being prepared to turn his back. Another little detail to file away.

Loki was heading for the bar and Tony made sure to keep some space between them as he followed. Non-threatening. "Yeah, I didn't offer you a drink yet, help yourself."

"Much as I appreciate that the practice of hospitality is not altogether dead on this uncouth rock--" Loki moved behind the bar as though he owned it, unerringly finding the glasses and taking out two. "I come prepared to repay your good manners."

So Asgard put some importance on hospitality customs. Loki said a lot when he wasn't paying attention to his words. Tony cocked his head, wondering how much goodwill he'd accidentally bought himself just by being a smart-ass on a regular basis.

Loki lifted an ornate bottle that he _had not been holding_ a second ago, and poured an equal measure in each glass. With a wave of his hand, they started to faintly steam.

"Sir," Jarvis said reprovingly, "I'm obliged to remind you that it's eight twenty-seven a.m., and you gave certain assurances to Ms. Potts regarding the consumption of alcoholic beverages--"

"Override," Tony said, waving a careless hand in the air. "This is a… diplomatic encounter. Inter-realm relations could be at stake."

"I'm sure Ms. Potts will find that very persuasive," Jarvis said, and Loki snorted in what was apparently genuine amusement.

Tony shrugged and took the closest glass, reminding himself that Loki could kill him in a hundred different ways. It _could_ be poisoned, but refusing it wouldn't save him from a broken neck. Instead he lifted it to his lips and drank, without displaying a flicker of suspicion.

It was a beer, but… hot. Sweet and fruity, and heavily spiced. And very alcoholic. It did interesting things to his tongue. "Mead, I assume?"

Loki nodded, watching him.

"I like it," Tony decided, and drank some more.

Apparently satisfied, Loki took the other glass and drained it in several long swallows. His hand didn't quite close around the glass, Tony noticed. Might be nothing, but it seemed a little stiff. And there were the gloves.

"So," Tony said, cradling his own drink while Loki refilled. He was happy to work at it slowly and let Loki do the heavy drinking. "Since you brought up technicalities. I couldn't help but notice that our little deal didn't cover Asgardians."

Loki raised an eyebrow. "Ah, I wondered if you'd notice that."

Tony waited, but nothing else seemed to be forthcoming. He raised his own eyebrows. "And?"

Loki knocked back another glass of mead, tired and grim. Again, his smile looked like it took effort. "Let's just say… I found it more entertaining to humiliate, this time. The guards would probably have preferred I killed them; at least then they would have retained some honor."

Disturbing. Tony rubbed his forehead momentarily. "I think you guys need a reality check on the importance of honor," he muttered.

"That may be," Loki said, and flashed an easier smile. He seemed a little more settled with some drink in him. It reminded Tony of bad days, of nightmares and memories that wouldn't quit.

Down by his side, Loki was flexing his other hand absently, gloved fingers curling and uncurling in a slow, steady rhythm. Like a heartbeat. The gloves were definitely hiding something, had to be.

Tony rested his free hand on the bar and took another sip of mead. Best to work up to it. "You know we have telescopes on Earth, right?"

Loki cocked his head a little, but it didn't take a genius to figure out who had told Tony what was stolen. "Yes. But their nature is all lines and angles. Like goes with like."

Things going together. Loki collecting magical artifacts, going all the way to Asgard for a specifically magical telescope. Needing it it to be _compatible_. "Everything you've taken, they're not separate steps in a plan. They're just components. You're going to build something with them, one giant magical multi-tool."

Loki's eyes widened fractionally. "I think perhaps I underestimate you."

"Aw, that's sweet," Tony said, while on the inside his mind was quietly flipping its shit over Loki potentially possessing some kind of mega-artifact of unreasonable power. And that vase was going to be part of it, the vase that _amplified magic_. Oh, this was so bad.

"Mm, perhaps." Idly, Loki spun his new cellphone on the top of the bar, its custom green casing reflecting glints of light everywhere. "I'm not sure you are well served to have my attention."

Tony gave a casual shrug. Better him than someone who didn't deserve to get hurt. "It's going well so far. You haven't tossed me through any man-made structures lately. That's not an invitation, by the way."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Loki said, but the look of predatory relish on his face suggested he was dreaming of just that. Tony checked his bracelets reflexively.

Constant fear for his life aside, Tony was aware that he was actually holding his own. He might even be the closest thing Loki had to a friend, in this realm at least, and wasn't that a fucked up thought?

He knew he was terrible with people; that was why he had Pepper. With Loki, he'd managed to keep hitting on the right things to say, or at least the things that wouldn't get him killed. He'd like to believe he was just absurdly lucky, but privately he had to admit luck didn't have as much to do with it as he'd prefer. There was a core of something familiar in Loki, a resonance he found it easy to connect to, and that should worry the hell out of him.

He shouldn't find it so much easier to talk to _Loki_ than to talk to someone like Mathieu De Wilde.

"You knew what I was planning, when I let your teammates take me," Loki said, pouring himself another drink. The bottle didn't seem to be showing any signs of running dry. "Yet you said nothing, unless Thor has grown vastly more practiced at deception than I remember. Why didn't you warn him?"

That had been another snap decision. There were so many ways Tony could answer that question, all true in one way or another. All the post-hoc justifications he'd come up with. Instead, he found himself saying something completely unplanned. "Do you ever get tired of being the smartest one in the room?"

Loki inhaled, drawing back a little. His face went carefully blank, which was telling all by itself. Again, Tony had said something completely _right_ , unintentionally.

Tony took another drink of mead, content to leave the ball in Loki's court for now. There was a comfortable, warm feeling settling into his chest. This stuff was potent. He wondered if he could get the recipe, set up another Stark subsidiary in charge of brewing, throw some of the profits at anti-drink-driving PSAs for irony's sake.

With a twitch of his wrist, Loki tucked the cellphone away, apparently into thin air. Tony wasn't sure if he was annoyed or envious. On the one hand, he couldn't help but feel a little personally insulted whenever something seemed to defy the laws of physics. On the other hand, no unsightly pocket bulges. It was a neat trick.

"Stark Industries," Loki said, moving out from behind the bar with glass in hand. "You rule it, correct?"

"Well, P--" No, he preferred for Loki to forget that Pepper existed. "Yeah. Yeah, you could say that."

Loki made a faint noise of acknowledgement, heading for the computer interface. That wasn't good.

Tony refilled his own glass and followed, bringing the bottle with him - good heavens, it was still three-quarters full, that wasn't even _possible_. "What are you hacking into now?"

As he called files up, Loki angled his body sideways so Tony wasn't coming straight up behind him. He seemed to have gotten into the HR files. Standard Stark Industries employment contracts, non-disclosure agreements, summaries of benefits. "You have many sworn free-men who serve you. One hundred thousand?" He cast Tony a glance that was at once impressed and incredulous. "You mortals cluster in such numbers. And here, in return, you are responsible for them and their families."

It wasn't a completely inaccurate way of describing how a company worked, Tony supposed. "Yeah, I'm king of the mountain. Where are you going with this, besides showing off your amazing disregard for anything resembling electronic security?"

"More like a jarl, I think," Loki said absently. "You serve a king in turn. No--" and he turned more fully to regard Tony with curiosity. "You have openly challenged the court of the elected king, and imposed your will on them."

The court of the-- "The Senate? Well, yeah, they're a bunch of idiots, I'm not going to take any orders from them. Besides, everyone knows that the real power is in the corporations and multination…als…" Tony froze for a moment, abruptly remembering that he was saying this to someone who liked to now and then _literally_ try to take over the world. "Uh, but not _real_ power, I mean, there are checks and balances, laws, regulations…" He gestured vaguely, mead sloshing in his glass as he tried to backpeddle.

Loki's mouth quirked in amusement; he reached out and gestured to heat up Tony's drink. "Is that so?"

Dear god, stupid, _stupid_. What was _wrong_ with him? How had they even got onto this topic? "Why are you even-- Wait." He stared at Loki as sudden clarity struck. "Are you trying to figure out if I'm high-ranking enough to be your friend?"

That… was _hilarious_.

"Don't be ridiculous." Loki closed all the files with a sweep of his hand, and took his mead to the sofa. "You're a mortal. You couldn't possibly hope to be my equal."

"My kingdom's bigger than yooour kingdom," Tony teased, voice a singsong as he followed.

"That depends entirely on what you think my kingdom is," Loki said, and he sounded cranky, but he didn't pull away when Tony sat beside him and let their knees touch.

If anything, the physical contact seemed to settle Loki; he slumped back in the sofa, legs sprawling a little wider, and closed his eyes with a sigh. "I rather believe you were sent to test me," he murmured.

"Huh. I'm not sure how my ego should respond to that. Sent to test a god, that would make me a pretty big deal, right? But on the other hand, I'd have to actually believe you lot were gods. No offense, but I've seen what you can throw at us, and it's not exactly of biblical proportions."

Loki opened his eyes, something unfathomably dangerous in them. More than just deadly; it looked like the ends of stars. "You have never seen me at my full power, tiny mortal. Pray that you never do."

Tony really wanted to believe that was a bluff, but something about it rang terrifyingly true. He took a too-large swallow of mead, trying to stifle a shiver. "That doesn't make sense, why would you hold back if we were-- Unless. You were using it for something else." There was more, he could feel the pieces of it in his mind, almost slotting together. "You're running multiple cons at once. You're-- Oh. Oh. How far can away can you project one of those illusions of yours?"

That unearthly look faded out of Loki's eyes a little, replaced by something almost like a smile. "Further than you can imagine."

"But it takes more effort the further you send it," Tony said. He didn't know why he was so sure of it, but it made sense. And Loki didn't deny it, just kept watching him like a teacher waiting to see how many questions he'd get right. "Where have you been since you escaped from Asgard? Not here. You went to another realm, didn't you, to check up on your business there."

"Oh, very good," Loki said softly. "Indeed, neither Earth nor Midgard is the center of the universe. I have… irons in many fires." He frowned as he said that last, looking down at his free hand and flexing it.

"Is that where you hurt your hands?" Tony asked before thinking better of it.

Loki made a soft 'tsk' sound. "And you were doing so well."

"On Asgard." Irons. In fires. Red-hot metal, maybe. Tony could see it in his mind; could smell searing flesh, if he thought too hard about it. He wasn't necessarily opposed to a little harsh punishment for criminals - there were definitely a few he'd like to see suffer - but he also believed that if the same thing didn't work over and over, eventually you should _try something else_.

He took a slow, steady breath; said, "I'm not sure if I should be sympathetic, all things considered."

Loki gave a hard-edged smirk. "I hope you're not under the impression this punishment was for anything I've done here in this backwater little realm. To Asgard, the worst of my crimes is how I do so persist in defying Odin's justice."

"I had wondered about that, actually." Had Loki intended that to be shocking? Natasha had been the first one to speculate. Thor tended to skirt around the subject, deliberately vague. Politically, it made a lot of sense. Tony didn't think anyone really cared _why_ Loki was locked up just so long as he was locked up.

Loki looked a little disgruntled at Tony's non-reaction, and poured yet another glass of mead. Tony had lost count of how many that was. He suspected Loki's nightmares were acting up. It was the same look of bleak distraction he sometimes saw in the mirror.

"You know, I still don't get why you spend so much time on Earth, though. I mean, if you're throwing illusions across the universe anyway, why would you base yourself the first place Asgard looks? It's not exactly the safest place to be."

"On the contrary, it's one of the safest place in the Nine Realms. Consider yourselves blessed." Loki paused to sip. "But neither is it the only place Asgard sends its warriors to seek me out. Thor is not their only pawn. And I have been… very, very noisy, elsewhere." He gave a grin that hinted at some very interesting stories.

So Loki's illusions were dropping breadcrumbs all over the place, places he sometimes visited in person. He must have been captured from elsewhere a few times, because if he was only ever caught on Earth then surely they'd have caught on.

Earth safe. Blessed. Under Thor's protection. Under _Asgard's_ protection, which could only be of benefit to Loki if people other than the Asgardians were looking for him.

Click click click. Pieces slotting together.

"You've made a lot of enemies, haven't you?" Tony asked.

"I can't imagine why," Loki said, lip curling in dark amusement. "I am so very charming, after all."

Tony was pretty sure he'd said the exact same thing to Pepper about himself, on more than one occasion. He decided it was more funny than creepy, and smiled as he drank some more mead. It was _really_ good. Made him feel warm. Cosy.

"People hold the most ridiculous grudges." Loki tilted his glass, examining it curiously. "Take your Agent Barton, for example."

Tony snorted, wary of Loki's casual tone and the turn of this conversation. "Let's be honest, that grudge is not all that ridiculous. Some might go so far as to call it downright reasonable."

"Yes, well." Loki flicked his fingers as if dismissing that point. "He did seem to take great pleasure in the farce of my 'capture'. Just as well for him, since I have no intention of allowing it to happen again."

Tony could only imagine. Clint tended to run his mouth at the best of times, and with Loki? With the ammunition of Loki's semi-public meltdown in front of the team? Not pretty. But the thing was, Loki _deserved_ it. Tony wasn't going to blame Clint, or anyone else for that matter, for taking what revenge they could.

The most non-committal thing he could think of to say was, "I'm not really the guy in charge of what Clint says."

"I was more interested in what he didn't say," Loki answered, eyes fixing on Tony like a steel trap. "No little quips about what might await me in my sleep? Or… other things." An open-palmed gesture that encompassed magnitudes. Loki was obviously not going to acknowledge the semi-conscious cuddling out loud.

It seemed like a good idea to actually think for a moment before blurting anything out. Tony scratched his chin, short hairs bristling against his fingers. He was pretty sure this was a test of some kind. "I know a little something about nightmares," he said finally. "And needing-- wanting to talk to someone who understands even a fraction of what it's like to be…" Tortured. Broken. Not enough. Too much. Overwhelmed. He rejected half a dozen words and shook his head. "What it's like. And that shouldn't be something people laugh at."

There were times when Loki's expression spoke volumes, and times when it was near unreadable. This was definitely one of the unreadable times. "Only a fool discards a potential weapon."

"It's not a weapon." Tony shifted on the sofa, tucking his foot under the opposite knee so he could face Loki properly. "Don't get me wrong, if we could use your enormous ball of crazy to wave a magic wand and make you suddenly a nice person? I'd be all for it. Gung-ho. Team spirit, that's me. I mean, we've had the talk about honorable battle and I am just not that guy. The ends justify the means, I think you know how that goes. But just _being mean_ isn't good enough. So, I told them what I thought was… relevant." He took a drink, suddenly self-conscious. "The rest of it's no one else's business."

"How noble of you," Loki sneered, but there was no real bite to it.

Tony gave a short laugh, wondering if that meant he'd passed. "You'd be the first to call me that, believe me."

Loki looked down at his empty hand, flexing it again. "I'm still of a mind to burn something down," he murmured, more to himself than to Tony, then looked up again. "Tell me what you do. When the need rises."

"Get drunk and laid," Tony said flippantly. No, okay, be serious. This was good. He should be encouraging Loki to do things other than attacking large civilian populations. "Uh, physical exhaustion is good. Beat the hell out of a punching bag. Usually I lock myself in my workshop and build something or take something apart." Anything except the armor, because when things were at their worst, working on the suit just made him think he was back in a cold, dim-lit cave, building the first one. "Turn the music right up, hammer some sheet metal. It's more about control than destruction. But Stark Industries still has land for weapons testing - we should really sell that or build on it, I'll get around to it - so if I really need to, you know, blow something up, I can just fly on down and fire missiles into the side of a hill for a while."

Loki grimaced, looking dissatisfied. "Exhaustion, study, petty weapons practice. What of _pain_? What of _power_? You never desire to see someone made helpless?"

_No._ Yes. All the time.

Tony got up, pacing away from the sofa. He didn't _do_ this. He didn't even talk to Pepper about this. He clenched his hands, staring out at the city. His city. Not the only one he'd fought to defend, but definitely the most frequent. "Why do you think I lock myself in, when I go to my workshop? So I don't--"

He shouldn't have left his glass by the sofa, he could really use a drink in his hand right now. He kept his back to Loki and tried to pretend he was alone in the room. "When I started, when Iron Man started, some of my weapons had got into the wrong hands. Well, they were sold into them, actually, by my-- a guy I thought I could trust. So I spent a while tracking down what I could, blowing it sky-high. I wasn't too careful about making sure the people who'd bought them were at a safe distance. Then I did some, uh, 'peacekeeping' was the official word, although I'm pretty sure 'vigilante justice' was another term being thrown about.

"These days I have the Avengers. So I'll get by for a while with my music and my workshop and sponsoring hospitals in third-world countries and whatever else, and then some moron will attack the city and then, then." He closed his eyes, taking a steadying breath. "Then I can do whatever I want. And it feels so, so good to _beat_ them. But the thing is, the waiting. You have to wait for them to make the first move. Wait for them to start it. Because that's… that's the line between being a hero and a villain."

Tony opened his eyes. Suddenly, he knew why Loki was here. Plying him with mead. Being _nice_. It was almost poetic, in its own way. He wanted to save Loki, prove there was something good in him because it would mean they were _both_ still good enough.

He wanted to bring Loki over to his side. Why wouldn't Loki want to do the same to him?

The others couldn't know. Loki trying to compromise him - that was exactly the kind of thing that would lead to people overreacting and writing _reports_ and bringing Fury's entire Boy Scout troop of spies down on his ass. The problem with playing down to expectations was that at times like this, people didn't trust him to know what he was doing. As if he hadn't spent his whole life learning how to manipulate things that could explode in his face.

"A wise king never seeks out war," Loki said slowly, "but he must always be ready for it." It sounded like something he was repeating by rote.

"Something like that," Tony agreed. It was a fine line and sometimes he came closer to it than he liked to admit. But he stayed on the right side of it. He _stayed on the right side_ , and that was what mattered. It had to count.

Loki's voice sharpened slightly in lilting challenge. "We also say, do not seek to turn a foe into a friend."

"Yeah? Well, we don't." Tony touched what was left of his sternum, below the reactor. The hole in his chest hurt, an ache that pulled at his ribs and tainted his breath with metal. It was a stupid saying, anyway. Sure, warrior culture, but he'd much rather turn a foe into a friend than have yet another friend turn into a foe. "You're not on Asgard now, Toto."

He heard a footstep behind him and instinctively whirled, aware that his back was exposed. Loki had refilled and reheated both their glasses and was holding one out to him.

"I don't--" His fingers twitched reflexively, shying away. "I don't take things from people, it's a thing, I have issues, I know. Just put it--"

Loki paused, something hurt flashing across his face.

"It's not personal," Tony insisted. His eyes kept flicking to the offered glass despite himself, and his stomach twisted tense and ugly. "I really don't like-- ask anyone."

"Suit yourself," Loki said, a little stiffly, and set the glass down.

Tony breathed a little easier, and gratefully picked it up. He raised it briefly with a bright, sarcastic, "Cheers," then tipped his head back and didn't come up for air until he'd drained the glass. Tipsy just wasn't cutting it. God, he needed this conversation to _not_ be about him anymore. His eyes fell upon Loki's gloves and he said, "What did they do to you, anyway? Do I even want to know?"

Loki gave a careless shrug. "It's of no consequence. Their physical punishments no longer concern me. They can only wound my flesh. It's nothing more than appearances, illusions."

"Um, yeah, and _pain_ ," Tony pointed out, holding out his glass for another refill.

"Pain is just as much an illusion," Loki said, pouring, and then made the bottle disappear as if to prove _that_ was an illusion too.

There was something important behind that sentiment, something that smelled of crazy, but Tony was on edge and working towards drunk and he couldn't line the pieces up right, to see how they slotted into the schematic. He made a mental note to come back to it later. "I guess if anyone would know about illusions, it's you."

Jarvis spoke up before Loki could answer. "Pardon the interruption, sir. Doctor Banner asked me to remind you that you were due to meet in the lab--"

"No," Tony groaned. He loved Bruce to bits, he did, but this morning had turned into the worst possible time. "Tell him I'm unavailable. I'll make it up to him later."

"Yes, sir. I take it you don't wish me to mention Mister Laufeyson's presence."

"Dear god, _no_ ," Tony said, as Loki jerked his head up to glare at the ceiling furiously.

"That is _not_ my name."

"Sorry, that was my fault, that was me." Tony resisted the urge to back away from the murderous look on Loki's face. "I just pulled it from the SHIELD files, bad data, typical paper pushers. So, you're, uh, sticking with Odinson?"

"I have no father." Loki raised his chin, wearing a strange mixture of bitterness and pride. "I am Loki, the Great Lie of Asgard. There are a hundred kennings for me; use one of those if you must."

'Kennings' sounded familiar to Tony but he couldn't quite place the word, although he could make a fairly solid guess from context. "Those nicknames, uh, Silvertongue, Liesmith, like that?"

"Worldwalker, Skytraveler, Maker of Mischief. Take your pick." Loki still looked all too brittle. Touchy issue.

"Mine used to be Merchant of Death," Tony said, as a weak peace offering.

Loki raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Now they call you Iron Man. And let me guess, Glowheart."

Tony coughed to ward off a choking fit, suddenly relieved he hadn't been drinking just then. "Good heavens, no, that makes me sound like a Care Bear." At Loki's blank look he added, "A children's entertainment, uh, thing. Just. Trust me. Ix-nay on the Owheart-glay."

Loki didn't visibly change expression, but something about his posture _shifted_ to give off an air of horrible, malicious glee. Tony sighed. "You're absolutely going to call me Glowheart."

"Clearly, it's a name which holds great meaning for you," Loki said, the smug bastard.

If Loki pulled that crap in the middle of a battle, Tony was going to blow his smirking head off. Son of a bitch. He sighed and shook his head. "Jarvis, update the record. Loki… Silvertongue?" He glanced at Loki to check that was acceptable. "Mister Silvertongue, right, let's roll with it. Ah, after he leaves, make a note: we'll hack into SHIELD's and update theirs too." Basic biographies weren't top security, remote access shouldn't be a problem. It would keep them on their toes.

"Updated and noted, sir," Jarvis said smoothly.

Tony turned his attention back to the conversation. Loki. Loki and father issues. Names. Right. Did he want to tell this story, or did he want to hold it back? There were some things that he couldn't, wouldn't share, but this seemed harmless enough. "So, when I was a teenager, I absolutely hated my dad. I stopped being that cute kid who was a science prodigy and I started being Howard Stark's boy, didn't I think he was amazing, wasn't he brilliant, didn't I hope to grow up _just like him_."

Loki nodded grimly, and it didn't take a genius to recognize the massive chip on his shoulder in the shape of big brother.

"By the time I got to MIT, I was so sick of being compared to him, I just…" Tony grinned, because in retrospect it was pretty funny. He'd been a fucking drama queen as a teenager - something else Loki should be able to relate to. "I refused to answer to Stark completely. I would have hacked into all the records but they were hardcopy in those days, primitive, I know, don't know how we got anything done. Somehow I still managed to convince a couple of the profs that my name was-- something else. Kept it going for a couple of months, it was pretty great."

Naturally, Loki picked up on the one part of that story Tony wanted him to ignore. "Something else?"

"I don't remember, just some name that jumped into my head."

"You know," Loki said, wearing his predatory look again. It was like he could sniff out humiliation. "You owe me two answers."

"Seriously?" Tony asked plaintively. Probably he should have thought this through before he started talking, but that had never really been his strong suit, and his mind was contentedly fuzzy with mead. "You're seriously wasting one of those on a _name_?"

Loki sipped his mead, smirked, and said, "Oh, absolutely."

"Fine. Fine. Rogers, okay? Happy? Shut up. I was, it was a thing, I didn't know any better." Tony took a long drink to ease the sting of being laughed at by a genocidal maniac with self esteem issues. This was his life now. This was why he should never volunteer for things.

After a few moments, Loki's amusement faded. "He was at least your father."

Oh, hello, perfect opening. God of Family Therapy, that's one he and Pepper should have come up with. Tony wet his lips and said, very carefully, "Maybe this is a cultural thing. On Earth, adoption still counts."

"If it were just that I was Odin's wish-son, it would-- I'm not even--" Loki's throat worked briefly, then he stepped back and turned away, hiding his wet eyes. "Do your stories tell the reason I am called Silvertongue?"

Tony stayed where he was, reluctant to push too hard. Mostly because he didn't want crying. He was not drunk enough to deal with crying. "No, I don't think so. I just figured, smooth-talker, you know."

"One of Asgard's greatest warriors is Tyr. Perhaps the greatest. He was winning battles before Thor was even born. I…" Loki turned back a little, smiling with no real joy. "A long time ago, I insulted him _most_ grievously, and so he challenged me to a duel."

Tony snorted, guessing just what the insult had been. "You would."

"The fight was brief--"

"Wait, fight?" He'd assumed the story would be about Loki talking his way out of the duel. "You killed Asgard's greatest warrior?"

"Of course not," Loki said scathingly. "I'm not as weak as some believe, but I'm not _Tyr_. The fight was brief because he won it swiftly. But great as he may be, I was a prince. The law said he was entitled to my life, but… the law is not everything."

"Politics," Tony agreed. Killing the king's son would be a terrible move. There were plenty of ways for an angry king to take revenge that had nothing to do with laws and justice.

But why would Loki provoke a fight he knew he couldn't win in the first place? Was that the point of it? Was it a humiliation for Tyr to have to let Loki live after an insult like that? It seemed… less than subtle. Assuming this story was even true. Thor would know. "So what happened?"

Loki smiled again. "He cut out my liar's tongue."

Involuntarily, Tony found himself looking at Loki's mouth. "One small question."

"Let me finish." Loki took a drink, then his other hand was holding a blade, tiny and bright. "I had a silver dagger of the dwarves, and I wove the best of spells around it. I enchanted myself a new tongue." He prowled slowly back to Tony, twirling the little knife in his fingers, silver flashing on black. "One that is sharp, and lethal, and strikes at the most vulnerable places."

That was a hell of a mental image.

Tony held his ground, telling himself that if Loki was trying to turn him evil, he wouldn't kill him. The way Loki was spinning that blade wasn't reassuring. The way Loki stopped in front of him and held it between their faces was definitely not reassuring. Then the asshole _touched his lips with it_ , and Tony concentrated on staying very, very still against the pointy object, while meeting Loki's eyes.

He was not going to be the one to blink. They'd danced this dance before and he could take whatever Loki threw at him, dammit.

…Unless Loki kissed him, which was looking like a distinct possibility, because _no_. In fact, hell with it, two could play at that game. Tony held Loki's eyes, watched them flicker and dilate as he slipped his tongue against the point of the knife.

He would probably regret this when he sobered up.

Loki twitched, closing his hand and vanishing the knife. His hand lingered a moment longer, brushing against Tony's jaw - and dammit, those gloves were going to show up in his dreams, he was sure - before he lowered it. "I do enjoy your boldness, Tony Glowheart."

Oh, goddamn that stupid name to hell. "Do you also enjoy my personal space? Because," Tony gestured in the narrow space between them, "the looming, down here that's not uh… customary social distance."

Loki smirked a little, and he tilted forward just long enough for Tony to think _yes - no - shit--_ then he stepped backwards, all innocence, "My apologies. I would hate to be responsible for your… discomfort."

Tony laughed, tension abruptly broken. "We beat the crap out of each other on a regular basis, somehow I think we're past 'discomfort'."

Loki's smirk slipped into a genuine smile, one that looked oddly out-of-place on his still-haggard face. "True enough."

Tony made his way back to the sofa, glass in one hand and the other loosening his tie. He popped the top couple of buttons on his shirt as well, flushed warm with drink. At least he wasn't the only one; Loki looked a little unsteady on his feet, coming back to sit beside him.

"How," Tony demanded, jabbing a finger at the magically disappearing-reappearing bottle Loki was carrying again, "is that not empty yet? I need to know. This is, it's got to be the most useful thing I've ever seen magic do. I need it."

Loki held the mead bottle in the air and regarded it thoughtfully. "I'm not sure you would comprehend the answer."

"Uh, hello, _genius_ ," Tony objected, vaguely affronted. "I am the master of sciences. I can do anything. And I am just drunk enough not to freak out about the basic impossibility of it all. Come on, hit me. --That's a figure of speech."

Loki topped up both their glasses and set the bottle on the ground. "Percussion."

"You might have to expand on that a little."

"Take percussion," Loki said, over-enunciating a little. "From the simplest rhythm to the most complex of patterns. You can make a great many sounds by the timing of each beat."

"Okay," Tony said slowly. "I'm with you so far. I think."

"Now, explain music to one who knows only percussion." Loki took a drink, watching him expectantly.

Tony was a little lost. "Well, uh, it's… the same, but with different notes--"

"Ah." Loki wagged a finger at him. "But what is a note?"

"Different… frequencies of sound--"

"Frequency means nothing to one who is only accustomed to rhythm."

"Well, it's…" Tony faltered, mind going blank. He grimaced in frustration. "That doesn't make any sense, how can you explain music without a concept of _sound_? It's a whole extra dimension. Rhythm's not enough."

Loki made an open-palmed gesture, as if that answered everything. "Magic is as music. Your science is percussion. How can I teach you that which you have no concept for?"

"I…" Tony paused, trying to think. Loki's superior little smirk was annoying him. "Will think of something. This is not over."

Loki gave a quiet smirk and tipped his head back against the sofa, eyes falling half-closed. He looked… drained. His hand flexed again, stretching, the way it had when he'd pensively talked about wanting to burn something down.

Tony didn't know what else to suggest. Honestly, the most important thing that kept him steady, kept him able to breathe, was Pepper - and Loki didn't have that. A best friend, a soulmate, someone who would listen without judgment. In any of the worlds… was there anyone? Loki didn't exactly invite people to get close to him.

Sometimes, Tony sat in the middle of the floor with his face in his arms, and Pepper would tell him about her day as she moved around the penthouse. He'd listen to the stream of mundane chatter until the visions behind his eyes faded and he started to feel human again.

Maybe… He stretched his arm along the back of the sofa, feigning casual as he dropped his hand on Loki's shoulder. It earned him a sideways glance, but no protest. Okay. He could work with this.

Quietly, he began to talk. Stories of his childhood, pranks he'd pulled, trouble he'd got into. Loki liked mischief, right? He threw in a few from his twenties, the many times he'd scandalized Obie and the Board. Little things. At first, Loki chimed in with sarcastic quips, but he responded less and less, tension ebbing out of his body. Slowly, his breathing deepened, evened out.

When the glass Loki was holding started to tip, Tony took it gently and put it on the floor. Loki stirred, making a small, protesting noise.

"Just me," Tony murmured, resting his hand back on Loki's arm. "When was the last time you slept?"

Loki blinked his eyes open and turned his head to focus them on Tony. "Have a care, Avenger. That almost sounds like concern."

"I was just thinking." Tony rolled his lower lip between his teeth, wondering if he was pushing his luck. "Mead's hitting me kind of hard, I could use a nap. And like I said, I sleep better with company. I don't know if you remember that, actually, you were pretty drunk."

"Ah." Loki wasn't giving anything away, in his face or in his voice. "So you would offer me use of your bed, solely for your own benefit."

"I'm very invested in my own benefit," Tony said agreeably. He wasn't sure if the thin attempt at face-saving was enough; if Loki was drunk enough this time, or tired enough. But if Loki was here, sleeping, then he wasn't _out there_ somewhere, burning things down. "Jarvis will let us know if anyone tries to get up here, right, Jarvis?"

"Indeed, sir."

Loki stared at him with that unnerving, unreadable expression. Tony waited, careful not to shift or fidget. Just an offer. Not a big deal. Nothing to set off touchy Asgardian pride. Here, kitty, kitty.

Abruptly Loki rolled to his feet, all fluid grace. "Very well."

Huh, look at that. Tony pushed himself off the sofa and followed Loki to the bedroom, undoing his tie along the way. He tossed it at the foot of the bed and checked his bracelets, although he didn't really think Loki would try anything. Maybe he should worry that he wasn't worrying. Lulled into a false sense of security?

He took a minute to use the bathroom, because if he didn't now then he was going to have to in about ten minutes. When he came back, Loki had already shed his coat and boots and had planted himself face-down on the bed. Tony kicked his own shoes off and climbed on beside him. The room spun unpleasantly when he lay down. To his surprise, Loki shifted closer, burrowing in against his side. Tony wriggled a little to get an arm around him, even if it was probably going to cost him some circulation later.

"You know," he said, "you're really pleasant like this."

Loki made a disgruntled noise but that was all, no sarcastic retorts or threats of violence. It really would be nice to keep him like this, all sleepy and docile and not stabbing anyone. Even if he was just shamming vulnerability to get Tony on-side - odds were about fifty/fifty - it was weirdly… touching.

And the thing about putting on a show of vulnerability was that he had to actually _be_ vulnerable to do it - had to be willing to sleep in front of Tony and have his nightmares seen. It should work out like the frequent touching - creep under Loki's skin, bring him closer. Like taming a wild animal.

Tony gazed up at the ceiling, listening to Loki fall back to sleep. He wasn't quite drunk enough to pass out himself. His head swam and he was too aware of the unfamiliar body in his bed. Not that Loki would have any use for the arc reactor, but after this long his vigilance was ingrained. It made it hard to settle down.

He occupied himself with schematics, mentally tweaking the upgrades he was thinking of making to the armor. In fact, if Loki was really trying to suborn him, he might even get some help from that quarter. Maybe not a full defense against magic, but he'd take what he could get.

Eventually he managed to slip into a kind of meditative doze, half-awake and half-asleep. It was warm and the bed was soft. He was ridiculously comfortable. He drifted in and out to the rhythm of Loki's steady breathing and the muted sounds of Manhattan. All his people were safe and where they should be. Everything was good. He relaxed.

Some time later he became aware that Loki was twitching. By the angle of the sun, Tony pegged it at about two o'clock. He rolled his head towards Loki and murmured, "Aw, that's cute, you're chasing rabbits."

Probably not rabbits. Especially when Loki started to make small, distressed noises in the back of his throat. Not the kind of thing that rabbit dreams would-- well, there had been that one, but it wasn't so much the rabbits as the fact that they'd been chewing on Jarvis.

"Do you know how many people have nightmares because of what _you've_ done?" Not that Loki was going to answer. Or care. Tony sighed. "Yeah, me neither, but I bet it's a lot."

But those people weren't here, and Loki was.

Tony looked back up at the ceiling and cleared his throat. Gently he stroked Loki's back, over the tunic; small, slow circles. He quietly began to sing. "On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair, the warm smell of colitas rising up through the air. Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light. My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim, I had to stop for the night…"

Halfway through the song, he heard something that could have been Loki stirring, but he kept going. It made him think of his childhood, when he was sick and his mother would sit with him and stroke his hair and sing lullabies. He tried to picture her, but her face was indistinct. All he could really remember were the photographs on the Maria Stark Foundation's website.

When he reached the end of the song, he let his voice trail off.

After a moment, Loki said sleepily, "I like that tale." He sat up, freeing Tony's arm, and crossed his legs. "I've heard tell of a hall like that on Alfheim. One day I will seek it out and learn its magics."

"I always thought an easy way to do it would be to camouflage the doors," Tony admitted.

Loki's mouth quirked in a half smile. He looked a lot better for a few hours sleep. Calmer. Hopefully, less destructive. And the way his hair was flopping out of place was a good look, too.

He glanced down, smoothing at his sleeve, then eyed Tony almost… cautiously? "Next time perhaps I will tell you some of our tales."

Ah, the wariness made sense. Tony nodded, mustering a smile. "Yeah, sounds good."

Loki nodded back, looking satisfied. He slipped off the bed and with a shimmer of gold was fully dressed again. "I will take my leave now," he said, with a very shallow bow, and started walking towards the door. Between one step and the next, he disappeared.

"Sir," Jarvis said promptly, "you wished to be reminded to update SHIELD's file on Mister Silvertongue."

"So I did," Tony said, sitting up. "Make another note: Fortune 500 companies. We need to keep an eye out for anything strange in case I accidentally told him how to rule the world." He scrubbed his face and groaned, replaying the last few minutes in his head. "My god, I think we might be _friends_."

"I couldn't possibly comment on something so subjective," Jarvis said, the coward.

After a moment's consideration, Tony said, "Let's never tell Clint."

"That would seem to be prudent, sir." Jarvis paused. "Additionally, the custom Starkphone you programmed is no longer transmitting location data."

Tony snorted. Handy as it would be to have a GPS tracker on Loki, he hadn't held out much hope. "Well, it was worth a try."

"Indeed, sir."

Okay. Time to get to work.

\--

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure I read the dagger-as-tongue concept somewhere, but I don't know where. (Possibly norsekink or avengerkink?) So, let it be stated for the record: that idea was probably not mine.


End file.
